


Something For What Ails You

by shadowazriel (angelcastiiel)



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Drug Cartel AU, Modern AU, Multi, rivals au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-02-28 11:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13270278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcastiiel/pseuds/shadowazriel
Summary: Aelin Galathynius is heir and second-in-command to the Guild, one of Erilea’s largest drug cartels. Unbeknownst to her, the guy she keeps running into at her favorite nightclub is Rowan Whitethorn, heir to the Doranelle cartel, the Guild’s most aggressive rival. When Doranelle attempts to seize Guild territory, Arobynn orders Aelin to assassinate the Doranelle heir. The events that follow set off a turf war the likes of which Erilea has never seen, and Rowan and Aelin are at the epicenter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The plans for this fic are pretty grand and expansive for this being my first time every seriously writing a fic, so if I end up not including all of the ships I've tagged, I'm sorry!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at shadowazriel!

“What the fuck was that!?” Aedion spat as he followed her into the dark apartment. All pretenses of stealth were gone as he stormed behind her, his seething rage overriding years of training. Aelin rolled her eyes as she stripped off her leather gloves, stained with blood, and tossed them over her shoulder. The gloves’ perfect arc into the waiting trash bin only served to agitate Aedion further.

Aelin huffed in indifference to Aedion’s rage, “I can handle myself, gods.” She stalked into the kitchen to grab herself a much-deserved drink while Aedion stopped in her living room and began to pace.

“I don’t care if you can fucking handle yourself. I care that you’re the heir and second-in-command to the Guild and that if one of Doranelle’s scumbags had caught you they’d string you up and slice you into ribbons until you broke or died,” Aedion seethed at her. “You know too much about the cartel to be off running hits on some low-level junk informant.”

Aelin poured herself a splash of tequila, not caring to measure, and turned to face the pacing man in her living room. “You’re right, I’m Arobynn’s second, which means when I tell you to stand down, you stand the fuck down,” she spat each word with utter control and calm. She was sick of Aedion following her around and second-guessing every action she made. 

The hit tonight was near perfect, the only flaw being the fact that she had nearly killed Aedion when she found him lurking around her target and looming over her. How Aedion had known she planned on carrying out the hit on one of Rifthold’s street rats, she had no idea. Her and Arobynn were supposedly the only ones who knew about it, but she’d slaughter whoever had told Aedion. All she had wanted was one night of peace so she could gleefully end the life of a dirty cop who had apparently been playing both sides, helping the Guild stay one step ahead of the police while also feeding info about the Guild back to his buddies in vice.

Aedion had known Aelin most of her life and was one of the few people who weren’t constantly terrified by her, which made him a good, but also extremely aggravating, third-in-command. She was glad there was someone under her to organize all of their numerous distributors, both in Erilea and on the other continents, but sometimes he was simply a pain in her ass.

Aedion stopped his pacing in her living room and turned to face Aelin. “Exactly, you’re second, which means you’re valuable. It’s my job as third to make sure the Doranelle cartel doesn’t take you out and the cops don’t get you. So, next time, leave the dirty work for the lowlifes we hire to do that shit,” Aedion’s rage had cooled into a simmering, bitter anger as he tried to talk some sense into Aelin.

She drained the tequila and relished the fiery burn down her throat. “You seem to forget, Aedion, that I started out as one of those lowlifes.”

Aelin had gotten into the business extremely young after she was abandoned on the street as a child. Rifthold was a festering pile of shit for most of its inhabitants, but it was a living a hell for the poor and vulnerable. She had managed to eke out a meager existence by using her small frame and innocent smile to collect valuable information from anyone she deemed worth her time. She had always been silent as mouse, but her time spying on the streets honed her stealth into a lethal blade. 

She had caught the eye of Arobynn Hamel after she offered to sell him information about a dealer of his who was working with the police. Aelin know how valuable the information was, so when Arobynn refused to pay her she was furious. Unfortunately for her, he caught the dagger she launched at his head. To her surprise, the blade was not immediately buried in her gut. Instead, Arobynn offered her a deal: spy exclusively for him and his cartel in exchange for her life and a roof over her head.

Over the years, Aelin used the stealth she had developed as a spy to become a predator on the streets of Rifthold, picking off enemies of the cartel and others who stood in Arobynn’s way. She began to climb the ranks, moving from child spy to assassin before working her way into Arobynn’s inner circle and chain of command. Before long, the Guild found themselves with a fiery twenty-year-old as heir to the whole operation.

Aedion’s lazy descent onto her couch and pronounced eye roll dragged Aelin from her thoughts, “Okay, drama queen. The point is, you have better things to do than spend your time on a low-level hit. Have you drafted the expansion plan Arobynn wanted yet? What about the report on the territory we lost to Doranelle last week?”

This time it was Aelin’s turn to roll her eyes, “Gods, Aedion. This is a drug cartel, not some Fortune 500 company.” 

Aelin peered into her empty glass. Finding it empty, she turned back to her kitchen and liquor cabinet. Aelin swore vigorously upon finding only a few fingers of tequila left among a slew of empty bottles. She turned back to where Aedion was seated and sighed in defeat. “You spoiled my fun tonight and my liquor cabinet is tragically empty. So, I’m going out and you’re not going to stop me.” 

Aelin ducked into her bedroomed and slipped out of her all black attire. She placed the garments in the bin she reserved for her bloodstained laundry and chose a short red dress to wear for the remainder of the evening. After swiping some makeup on her face and letting her long, ash blonde hair out of its usual braid, Aelin returned to her living room to find Aedion still scowling on her fine leather couch.

Aelin considered Aedion for a moment before continuing, “In fact, you’re going to leave and go finish up those reports you mentioned. Arobynn sent me on that hit tonight, and he won’t be pleased if he finds out you almost ruined the whole thing.”

Aedion stood and made his way toward the apartment’s door, knocking his shoulder into Aelin’s as he passed by her. “Fine, have it your way, princess. It’s not my funeral if you get caught.”

Aelin slipped into her heels as Aedion closed the door behind himself. With the third finally out of her apartment, Aelin allowed her eyes to slip closed and a smile to grace her face as she thought back to her kill just a few hours earlier. Aelin didn’t always take pleasure in ending a life, but when it was someone as sleazy and vulturous as that man had been, she couldn’t but feel satisfied. Not only was the informant a double-crosser, he had also assaulted and harassed some of the Guild’s female distributors according to Lysandra. Aelin was aware that she worked for a cartel which sold illegal drugs, but there were some lines that still could not be crossed.

Aelin came back to the present and shook the predatory smile from her face, leaving a sweeter facsimile in its place. She shrugged on her favorite black leather jacket to ward off the evening chill and left the apartment, locking the door and slipping the keys into the pocket of her jacket.

As she trotted out onto the sidewalk she breathed in the crisp fall air. Aelin made her way across the city towards her favorite nightclub, Mistward, and prepared herself to drink and dance and forget, if only for a night.  
 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pounding music of the club fell away as a young blonde woman in a curve-hugging red dress sauntered into the club, pausing just inside the door to survey the crowd. She flipped her long, wavy blonde hair over her shoulder as she shifted her weight from one foot to another with restless energy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the delay, my college has a January term which is basically one month of hell where you only take one class (sounds easy but it's not), have class every day and basically die...
> 
> Anyways, now that Spring semester is finally about to start, my schedule has smoothed out so I should be able to find more time to write this!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. you can follow me on tumblr as shadowazriel, I usually post new chapters there at least a day before they hit AO3

Rowan's anger had been simmering just under his skin all evening. The bartender slid him another shot, not bothering to even flash him a smile or flirt with him before she turned back to the other customers. The petite brunette had quickly picked up on the shit mood he was in and had made sure Rowan's drink was never empty long. He had lost count of his drinks at least an hour ago, but Rowan had always had a high tolerance. He wanted to drink away his problems just for one evening and forget about business, but that was proving to be more difficult than he had imagined.

Gavriel, who had long ago stopped trying to keep pace with Rowan's drinking, took a small sip of his beer and clasped a hand onto his friend's shoulder. He had been occupying the seat to Rowan's right all evening, trying and failing to talk him out of his mood.

"Come on, Rowan, the guy probably forgot about the meeting or had the wrong location. I'm sure he'll crawl out of the woodwork tomorrow demanding the usual exorbitant amount of cash for second-rate intel. He's probably just trying to make us sweat so we'll pay him more," Gavriel sighed. He knew it was useless trying to talk Rowan down once he got this pissed, but Gavriel had to at least try.

Rowan barked out a cold laugh, "Yeah, and unicorns really exist. C'mon Gav, you know as well as I do that the rat's dead. If the cops had found out about him we'd already be feeling the heat, and he values his life too much to miss an appointment." Rowan tipped back another shot, relishing the burn as the whiskey slid down his throat. He glanced to his right in time to see his blond friend wince. He appreciated Gavriel's attempt to shake him out of this mood, but nothing short of gutting the person who killed their informant would accomplish that task. The guy might have been a lowlife, but he had good intel and had helped Rowan's business interests succeed more than a few times.

Rowan turned back to his empty drink and shook his head in frustration. The bartender was just reaching to refill it when something caught her attention behind him, causing her to pause. Rowan, wanting to know what the hell was more important than filling his drink, glanced over his shoulder to find the object of the bartender's attention.

The pounding music of the club fell away as a young blonde woman in a curve-hugging red dress sauntered into the club, pausing just inside the door to survey the crowd. She flipped her long, wavy blonde hair over her shoulder as she shifted her weight from one foot to another with restless energy.

Rowan recognized the woman from his frequent visits to Mistward, the night club being a favorite of his and apparently hers. His gaze raked over her body, the tight fabric leaving little to the imagination. The blonde had always had an electric, magnetic energy about her, but tonight there was a manic edge to her fire. 

The manic energy radiating from the woman was not dissimilar to that experienced by users of Fae, the powerful stimulant pushed by Rowan's crew. He was a strict businessman who organized the shipment and sale of their product but never indulged. However, it wasn't hard to spot the effects of Fae, even without having personal experience with the drug. Rowan gave the girl one last glance, ready to dismiss her as another tweaker.

Rowan began to turn back towards the bar, hoping the bartender would have finished refilling his drink, when the blonde flicked her gaze towards him and the two locked eyes. He took a moment to appreciate her features and found them just as pleasing as her curves. His attention snagged on the woman's turquoise and gold eyes which appeared to dance in the dim lighting of the club. As Rowan's eyes fell to her sensuous lips, which were quirked in a predatory grin, he realized that whatever high this woman was on was completely natural.

The predatory intent in her face and confident swagger of her hips simultaneously enthralled and repulsed Rowan. Despite the obvious physical attraction of this woman, Rowan found himself having to choke down a snarl that rose unbidden to his lips. There was something about her that stirred the anger slumbering just under Rowan's skin.

The blonde raised an eyebrow at Rowan and shifted her weight once again, placing her hands on her hips in a display of self-assurance. This time Rowan didn't bother holding back his scowl as he turned back to the bar and his friend sitting beside him.

"Dude, what the fuck was that?" Gavriel laughed at him, "I couldn't tell if you want to screw that chick or kill her. What was up with that little stare down between you two?"

Rowan swiped his glass off the bar and took a long drink before shifting his attention to his friend. He gave a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders in response to Gavriel's questioning. The truth is, Rowan was just as confused as his friend. He felt a magnetic pull towards the woman, but his instincts had screamed at him, and not in a good way, when the two had locked eyes. 

As Rowan took another drink he noticed a flash of red and blonde in his left peripheral and had to stifle a groan. The woman flipped her long locks over her shoulder as she slid onto the stool at his side. Without sparing a glance to Rowan she leaned forward over the bar to snatch up a shot glass and the nearest liquor within reach. He cocked an eyebrow as she boldly filled the shot glass to the top before setting the handle on the bar in front of her.

…..

Aelin knew Elide, her friend and the lead bartender at Mistward, wouldn't mind as she served herself, feeling the ice-haired pile of muscle to her right stare her down the entire time. She had seen him a few times at the club before, and when he had held her gaze just minutes earlier she knew tonight was her night to make a move. His hulking size, stark white hair, and ever-present scowl might have deterred others, but Aelin wasn't easily intimidated.

"Come here often?" She smirked in the man's direction as she swiveled her seat towards him and mock-flirted. Aelin arched an eyebrow at him as she took an innocent sip from the shot glass she had snagged, not wanting to spill any of the liquid on her dress. She wanted to celebrate after her success that day, but Aelin knew better than to get sloppy drunk tonight.

The man's eyes dragged down her face and caught on the way her lips pursed gently against the rim of the shot glass. She sensed he was about to turn back to the equally hulking, surly man on his right, presumably a friend.

"I'm Aelin, by the way."

Stupid, stupid, stupid. She thought to herself. Never make the first move, Aelin, c'mon. Let them come to you.

"Rowan," the man grunted at her as he took another drink of his poison of choice. Aelin could feel a wicked grin tugging at her lips.

"So, Rowan," she emphasized his name gleefuly, "what brings you to our friendly neighborhood shithole this evening?"

Elide, wiping glasses down a few paces away, barked teasingly at her friend, "Watch your mouth, Aelin. Given how much time you spend here, if this place is a shithole, what does that make you?"

Aelin stuck her tongue out at her friend behind the bar. She flipped her hair towards her face to try and hide the flush that spread across her cheeks at the sound of a throaty chuckle from the white-haired man. Rowan turned and cocked an eyebrow at her, prompting Aelin to answer her own question. 

"One, don't listen to Elide, I don't spend that much time here," Aelin scowled at her friend as she checked off a list on her fingers. "Two, I'm here tonight for a little celebration of a, let's say . . . personal accomplishment. And three, again, what brings you to this fine establishment?"

Rowan released another throaty chuckle that made Aelin squirm a bit on her barstool. "Well, congratulations on your personal accomplishment, whatever it is. As for me, I'm here . . ."

"To fuckin' mope around for no reason," Gavriel cut in from the other side of Rowan, reminding the two of his presence.

It was Aelin's turn to cock an eyebrow at Rowan. Rowan rolled his eyes at his friend, "This is Gavriel, he's currently trying to delude himself and me that our, uh, sales team has not just suffered a major setback."

Aelin caught Rowan's warning glare to his friend before she replied, "Mistward is a pretty good place to drink to forget, trust me, we've all been there." She tossed a wink in his direction, hoping to bring back the lighthearted mood that had been killed with Gavriel's interruption.

….

Rowan shook his head and picked his drink up from the bar, finishing it quickly. Gavriel could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but at least his interruption had broken whatever spell this woman had on him. Now was not the time to get involved with some blonde in a bar. Aelin was clearly gorgeous, but there was something about her that had Rowan's hair standing on end. His body warned him that this woman was trouble.

"I don't know about you, but I don't need to drink my problems away," Rowan snarled at the girl, ignoring the fact that he had begun the night with that exact intention. He felt Aelin bristle next to him, quickly picking up on the shift in his tone.

Rowan felt Aelin's judgmental eyes rake up and down his body. "Yeah, okay. If you want to try and peddle the asshole, tough guy act to me, that's fine." Sarcasm and condescension dripped from her voice. He turned back toward her in time to see her slam her shot back before hopping from her stool and stalking towards the dance floor.

She didn't glance back at him until he had almost lost her in the mass of writhing bodies. Aelin's gaze once again travelled the length of his body, still perched on his own barstool. They locked eyes for the second time that evening, Aelin giving him a saucy wink before disappearing into the crush of bodies.

Rowan recognized a challenge when he saw one. Abandoning Gavriel at the bar, he followed this mysterious woman onto the dance floor. Given his size, Rowan couldn't slip through the crowd as effortless as Aelin, but after a little pushing and shoving he managed to catch a flash of red and blonde in the center of mess of dancing drunks. Of course, he thought. 

Rowan pushed toward her and grabbed her hips from behind, pulling her close to his body and allowing himself to get lost in the music and Aelin's energy.

…

Aelin was ready to lose herself to the pounding of the music and the energy of the other bodies on the dance floor, but she made sure to keep her senses attuned to Rowan's path through the crowd.

When his hands gripped her body, she laughed to herself before leaning into his hold. Aelin turned around in Rowan's arms, locking her arms around his neck and allowing his hands to rove her back.

Aelin found herself locked into Rowan's intense gaze. A wild spark crackled between the two of them, promising nothing but trouble.


End file.
